"Hey, Tae!" Jimin cheered as he walked into the art room. I rolled my eyes and continued to blend the oil pastels in my tiger abstract. Monday, I needed to start putting the rough draft into the final draft on the wall in the sports hall. The Beatles played quietly in the background. "Hey, baby," I heard Jimin say to Jungkook, who was sitting in his mother's desk chair by the slightly-open window. I glanced over to see Jimin sit in his boyfriend's lap, pecking his lips lightly a few times before he settled in and enjoyed the peace. They were really cute, even though I acted disgusted with them when they were being all couple-y in front of me.
It was quiet and I started to sing with the song playing as I finished blending the last part of my rough draft. "There's a game today, you know," Jimin commented and I shrugged. "I know. Hobi said I didn't have to go if it was too much, but he wanted to take me to dinner with the team afterwards. Plus, Kookie and I were listening through the window." I gestured to the ajar window behind his head, where sounds from the baseball stadium had been filtering in all evening. "We're listening. Tigers up ten to four," I said and Jungkook nodded in agreement. "He's right, hyung."
Jimin huffed and laid his head on Jungkook's shoulder, allowing him to play with his hand. "Why so snappy, Tae?" he asked and I sighed. "Bad week. And he knows." They both knew what that meant; Jimin walked over to me and held my wrists in his hands, counting the cuts as his small fingers caressed them. I knew he was checking for new cuts, but he sighed in relief when he didn't find any. "He stopped you?" he whispered and I nodded as he wrapped his arms around my waist for a hug. I smiled a little when he rested his head on my chest and I hugged him tighter. Jungkook sent me a look that said, 'Enough. That's my boyfriend,' and I scrunched my nose at him as I parted from Jimin. "Baby Kookie's jealous," I chuckled and Jimin just rolled his eyes and laughed.
Jungkook had left with Jimin a few minutes later, leaving me the key to the art room. I had cleaned up in no time, so I sat and sang Beatles songs as I sketched absentmindedly. This was probably the most at peace I had felt since Hoseok kissed my temple. Speaking of, I was drawing his lips this time; my memory of them guiding my hand across the paper. Something about the heart-shape they made when he smiled and how they moved when he spoke brought a blush to my cheeks.
"Your voice is beautiful." I almost had a heart attack when I heard Hoseok's voice in the doorway. He laughed at my startled expression and walked over to stand in front of me. He was all sweaty from the game and his pants had dirt from where he possibly slid in the dirt. I smiled and walked to Mrs Jeon's mini fridge where I knew she kept water bottles. "Thanks, but I'm not very good. My voice is too deep," I muttered as I handed him a bottle of water, not missing how his hand ghosted over mine for a second. He smiled gratefully and unscrewed the cap. "It's not too deep. It's soulful and I love it, okay?" he said as he downed the water in one breath.
He tossed the empty bottle into the recycle bin and nodded towards the door. "Ready to go?" he asked and I nodded as I slung my bag over my shoulder, wiping my oil-pastel-stained hands on my overalls before I locked the door and took his hand. "Such a mess," he joked and shook his head, leading me through the empty halls to the parking lot.
Like our usual rides, we stayed quiet and enjoyed each other's company. But at every stoplight, I felt his gaze drift to me for a second. "Taehyung." I hummed to let him know I was listening to him. He sounded so serious; whenever anyone used my actual name, I knew they were being serious over something. "The guys... They're overwhelming whenever they see me with anyone they haven't seen before. If I let go of your hand or start acting like a real jerk, it's just to keep them from thinking other things. So, whatever I say, you can't take it to heart, okay?" He sounded a little desperate as I nodded.

YOU ARE READING
Baseball (VHope)
Hayran Kurgu"You're the game I don't think I will win." In which a popular baseball hot-shot meets and falls for a depressed, quiet artist. WARNINGS: mentions of self-harm, depression, possible cheating (?), social anxiety, bullying, and a crap ton of fluffy...